


Pest Control

by vjpotter0



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anxiety, Comfort, Depression, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-10-05 08:00:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20485526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vjpotter0/pseuds/vjpotter0
Summary: When life gets to be too much, sometimes you just need a Winchester by your side.





	Pest Control

You glanced over to the bedside table. The clock read 5:47 AM. You sighed and rolled over to face Dean’s side of the bed. The Led Zeppelin poster you got him for his birthday usually makes you smile but today it seemed that nothing could accomplish that momentous task. You closed your eyes and slowly fell back into unconsciousness.  
The next time you woke up was 8:23 AM according to the bright red analog numbers you found yourself staring at. You decided to drag yourself out of bed to make a cup of coffee in the hopes that it might restore some life into your body. 

Usually by this time, the boys already had coffee made and Dean always left a mug out for you. This particular morning, however, the Winchesters were wrapping up a hunt two towns over which left you an empty bunker. Now usually you would appreciate the peace and quiet, but for some reason today you just felt numb.  
Pouring coffee should have been an easy enough task but of course the pot was leaking. 

“Right…” you huffed to yourself as you leaned down to clean it up. You threw away the paper towel and reached for the creamer in the fridge. You were never someone who could drink their coffee black. As you opened up the silverware drawer for a spoon, you simultaneously bumped the cream onto the floor which of course today of all days would break the cap and flood the floor with the vanilla liquid. You took a second to compose yourself before cleaning that up as well with the towels that Sam so conveniently left in the kitchen. 

Leaning against the counter, you sipped your coffee without taking your eyes off a scratch on the wall. The only thoughts going through your mind were the ones you tried to keep buried. Each thought, each memory bubbled up one after another until you couldn’t take it. Drinking the last of your coffee, you threw the mug against the wall and watched it explode into shards of ceramic. Your right hand instinctively digging nails into your left forearm. 

Suddenly, Dean was at the doorway with his gun pointed towards you. Concern was etched into the creases of his forehead. You hadn’t even heard the front door open.  
You glanced at him and stated plainly, “there was a bug,” hoping he didn’t see through your obvious lie. You headed for the bedroom and locked the door behind you.  
Dean watched you leave and tucked his gun away. Sam walked in and looked around confused, “Dude what happened?” he asked. “Uh… there was a bug,” was Dean’s response. Sam raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything further on the subject. 

You were wrapped in the blankets on the bed staring at the clock again. 11:19 AM. There was a knock on the door but you couldn’t bring yourself to open it. You knew it was Dean but you couldn’t look at him right now. He didn’t need to see you like this. He had just finished a hunt. You should have asked him how it went or if you could help bring things in from the Impala. You shouldn’t be pouting like a moody teenager. All those thoughts ran through your mind but you still stayed wrapped under the covers. You thought he had left until you heard scraping and clicking noises. The door swung open to reveal Dean looking smug and the lock pick still stuck in the door under the knob. It’s not like you noticed the look on your boyfriends face as your eyes were still glued to the analog numbers on the clock. 

Dean wasn’t the mushy kind in any context but he would lay the world down at your feet if it would make you smile and he was preparing to do just that. He slowly closed the door and let his eyes adjust to the level of darkness in the room currently. You were in the bunker after all and that meant no windows. He shuffled his way towards you and untucked the blankets from your feet. He sat on the lower corner and pulled your feet on his lap. “Talk to me baby,” he pleaded.  
You inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly still not moving your mouth.  
“Please. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me how.” He started rubbing your feet softly.  
You didn’t look at him because you knew that seeing the look on his face would break you down. Instead you shoved your face in the blankets and mumbled. “You’re not my therapist.”  
“Yeah you don’t pay me,” Dean retorted while gently slapping the top of your foot, “just tell me what’s on your mind.”  
You took another deep breathe but this time let it out in the form of a choked sob. The tears started rolling down your cheeks and there was nothing you could do to stop them now. Dean was immediately pulling you into his chest, holding you as tight as he could and running his fingers through your hair.  
“Hey hey shh shh shh you’re okay love I’ve got you, I’m here, I’m always here.” He repeated those words as if they were the only anchor keeping you here, with him, in his arms.  
As soon as you opened your mouth the words wouldn’t stop pouring out. “Don’t know why… shouldn’t feel like…. Not a fuckin teenager… broke my favorite…. You and Sammy… I’m useless….”  
“Okay honey let’s take a breath and we’ll tackle all of that in a minute.” Dean moved his hand from your hair to your back, rubbing soothing circles while still cooing softly.  
Once your breathing was more or less back under control he pulled away and looked at your face. “I’m gonna go make you some tea, okay?” he asked.  
You nodded softly and watched him walk through the doorway. You eased yourself off the bed and over to his dresser where you raided his drawers for your favorite flannel. 

Dean came back in to see you wearing his shirt and hugging his pillow. “Awe baby,” he murmured while kissing the top of your head and handing you a cup of your favorite tea. He sat across from you on the bed and put your feet in his lap again, waiting for you to decide where you wanted to start the conversation.  
You sighed again and started from this morning. You told him about how you woke up feeling like a pile of bricks was weighing you down and how nothing was going right and your brain wasn’t working right. You almost started crying again when you talked about the mug. “There wasn’t a bug,” you mumbled, “I just couldn’t stop thinking… my brain wouldn’t stop… and I just,” you were interrupted by a large sob. Dean started rubbing your feet again as you continued, “I don’t know why everything just happened today. I was feeling fine but this morning I just…” you trailed off and took a sip of your tea. “I didn’t even ask how the hunt was… you or Sammy could have been hurt and I was too busy wallowing in my own bullshit… I’m the worst.” You ended and stared at the bubbles floating in your mug. 

Dean waited until he was sure you were done before responding. “You and I both know that depression can sneak up without a warning. We’ll take a few days off and regroup. We can go on a little road trip to get you a replacement mug and I’ll even let you pick the music.” You smiled a little at that and you felt some tension leave your body with it. Dean must have noticed too because he smiled and continued “We’ll get your favorite food and watch all those movies that make you laugh until you cry,” he paused for a second and gently lifted your chin so you would look at him, “You do so much for me and Sammy. If we didn’t have you helping with research or talking to the locals we’d be lost. I can say honest to Chuck that you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to us… to me. Just… please tell me the next time you feel like this so I can have a backup mug on hand or a fly swatter, I mean there’s better ways to do pest control.” You gently slapped his shoulder but smiled and promised you’d tell him.

That night when Sam got home from picking up dinner, you and Dean had facemasks on and were drinking wine while watching TV.


End file.
